


An Academic Exercise

by teenybeanie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Michelle Jones, F/M, Minor References to Drugs and Prostitution, One-Shot, POV Michelle Jones, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Secret Crush, Secret Identity, Slice of Life, also brief mention of orthodontia, and as a joke, but not really, is that a thing?, more like slice of an afternoon, they’re only referred to in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 06:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenybeanie/pseuds/teenybeanie
Summary: “It’s gotta be drugs.”“Maybe... I mean, he’s a chemistry wiz, he aces every test but I’ve never seen him study.  What if he’s breaking bad?”“My money’s on fight club.  Did you see his black eye last week?”—or—Even in this post-Blip world, the Academic Decathlon team is still bickering over Peter Parker’s mysterious absences.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker
Comments: 18
Kudos: 414





	An Academic Exercise

**Author's Note:**

> Five months later, and I’m still thinking about Far From Home...
> 
> Peter/MJ are everything, I can’t get enough of them dancing around each other like the awkward nerds that they are, so here’s some more!
> 
> This one-shot takes place a week or so before the events of Far From Home.
> 
> Edit: Just corrected a few minor grammar mistakes :)

“It’s gotta be drugs.”

“Maybe... I mean, he’s a chemistry wiz, he aces every test but I’ve never seen him study. What if he’s breaking bad?”

“My money’s on fight club. Did you see his black eye last week?”

“Yeah, and he’s _ridiculously_ built. He always changes in the bathroom stalls before gym, but Jason caught him shirtless in the locker rooms the other day when Flash dumped Gatorade all over him and apparently he has, like, a twelve-pack.”

“Let the record reflect that I didn’t dump it on him. I spilled it on _accident_.”

“Sure, Flash. Whatever you say.”

“And twelve-packs aren’t an actual thing that exists. Jason’s a total stoner, he was probably trippin’ balls. There’s no way Penis Parker is built. He can barely do a single push-up.”

MJ tunes absentmindedly into the debate as she gathers up her flashcards. The topic is not a new one, and for a second, she feels a weird disconnect between past and present. Half the team is made up of kids she doesn’t really know, people who are her age and yet five years younger, but it doesn’t matter; even in this post-Blip world, the Academic Decathlon team is still bickering over Peter Parker’s mysterious absences.

Fatima leans forward eagerly. “Why don’t we just ask him? You know, settle it once and for all.”

“Because he’s just gonna blow us off with some lame excuse that doesn’t make any sense.” Flash rolls his eyes so dramatically that MJ has a sudden vision of his eyeballs popping right out of their sockets. “And Leeds is even worse. Why do you think we only talk about this after practice, _after_ he waddles out of here at hyper speed? Every time you talk about Parker’s flakey ass in front of Leeds, he always tries to cover for him. The only good thing about being blipped is that at least they’ve stopped lying about that fake internship.”

“Fake internship?” asks Brad.

“Yeah, those two idiots used to pretend Parker had an internship at Stark Industries, working for Tony Stark himself. As if anyone was ever going to believe that.”

Brad quirks an eyebrow, echoing Flash’s disbelief, and MJ can’t stop looking at his weird, grown-up face. It seems like just yesterday that he was playing video games with her little cousins, being obnoxious and getting nosebleeds and crying every time he lost, and she’d yell at them to keep it down so she could study. And now he’s in three of her classes, and he doesn’t have that gap between his front teeth anymore.

Maybe he got braces. From a non-blipped orthodontist. Half the universe turned to dust, and yet the orthodontia industry carried on, business as usual.

Brad catches her staring and smiles his gapless smile. She spares him a nod, tearing her gaze away. So, _so_ weird. Zipping up her bag, MJ heads for the exit as the rest gather their belongings and follow her.

The air outside is warm, despite the setting sun. Summer must have crept up on them while they were busy with finals. Now, with a week of school left, the campus is permeated with a sense of buoyancy, as though the absence of stress has made everyone ten pounds lighter, and they’re all in danger of floating away. MJ is tempted to start a new series of portraits, with people smiling and laughing instead of drowning in crisis. After all, she’s seen enough crisis in the past year to last a lifetime.

Behind her, the others are still discussing Peter’s mysterious disappearances and Ned’s less-than-believable excuses. She feels the vague urge to jump in and defend the two losers, even though she has a strict non-interference policy. But they _are_ her friends. Sort of. She and Ned are definitely on friendly terms, and Peter... well, there is _something_ between her and Peter, but it’s something that should only be examined when she’s alone, in her bedroom, at 1am, burying her face in her pillow so the FBI agent that watches her through her laptop camera can’t see her blushing. Because it’s only then that she can pretend that the something isn’t totally, completely one-sided.

If she jumps in now, defending Ned and Peter despite her policy, will the others figure out her secret? Highly unlikely. After all, they haven’t figured out Peter’s secret. For all the theories they’ve been spouting, they have yet to come up with the craziest(and yet, most obvious) one. The one that MJ is 67% sure about, even though it should be too insane to even contemplate. But then again, she and half the universe got a little dusty for five years and then popped back into existence like magic, so there has to be a new threshold for insanity.

They’re almost across the football field when Suzie pipes up. “You’re all wrong. I’m, like, a thousand percent sure it’s not drugs or a fight club or an internship.”

The team turns toward her, and even MJ can feel herself focusing in on the half-Chinese girl with a bright blue streak in her cropped black hair, though she does her best to maintain her uninterested façade. After all, Suzie is the team’s math wiz, so if she says she’s a thousand percent sure about something, it’s worth listening to. Maybe MJ isn’t the only one with an eight-legged theory about Peter Parker.

Flash raises his eyebrows at Suzie. “Well? Are you gonna share with the class?”

Suzie pointedly ignores him as she blows her chewing gum into a large pink bubble, leisurely popping it when she’s sure she has everyone’s attention.

“The answer is _so_ obvious.”

Long pause for dramatic effect. MJ wonders if Suzie is taking theater class this semester.

“Peter Parker—” Suzie smirks—“is a male escort.”

That conversational bomb sends the whole group into a frenzy, so no one notices MJ’s barely-there smile as she turns back around. Nope, looks like she’s the only one with the truly insane theory. She’d share it, but the current debate over Peter’s “nerdy hotness”(Suzie’s words, and MJ’s not going to argue) is just too entertaining. Plus, if she’s being honest, she’s not big on sharing.

A little while later, she’s alone, just her and her imaginings. The group broke up after leaving the school grounds, everyone heading off in different directions. She likes her teammates, but this is more peaceful. When she’s around other people, she feels the need to rein in her thoughts, so nobody can read them on her face. Now that no one is looking, she can let them roam free.

And, as happens so often these days, her mind gallops right back to Peter Parker.

He’s going on the Europe science trip. She knows this because she was cleaning up her beakers after chemistry three weeks ago and she happened to see him handing in his filled-out packet, with a check paper-clipped to the front. Mr. Harrington had given him a slightly bemused but mostly exasperated look, the kind of look all the teachers reserve for Peter.

_“Peter... you are aware that all checks will be cashed before we leave for Europe, right?”_

_“Umm, yeah— I mean, that makes sense.”_

_“So if this check bounces, you won’t be able to come with us.”_

_Peter looked bewildered. “What— why would it bounce?”_

_“Peter.” Mr. Harrington slipped the check out from its binding and held it out to his confused student. “Do you really expect me to believe that Pepper Potts is personally funding your school trip?”_

If MJ hadn’t already been late for her next class, she would have loved to have stayed for the entirety of Peter’s stuttering explanations about the “September Foundation grant thingie” and the “internship fund for educational stuff”. It’s amazing that someone with so much natural intelligence can’t even muster a half-convincing lie. Given her secret, what does that say about her? Maybe she has a type: earnest idiots who can’t keep their stories straight.

Given that she’s only ever had heart-racing, cheeks-blushing, hands-sweating emotions about one earnest idiot in particular, there really isn’t enough data to establish a Type. Regardless, she’s going to need to get these alarming symptoms under control. They might not be very noticeable in crowded hallways and loud cafeterias, but the group of students going on the Europe trip is small. She’s not going to have much cover. And lately, every time she looks up from her books and binders, the earnest idiot is watching her with this really intense look on his face.

Better not to dwell on that. MJ isn’t a stranger to getting her hopes crushed; she finds it’s always preferable not to have hopes in the first place. (But hope is a tricky weed; burn the fields, salt the earth, and still it blooms.)

A left turn at the Guptas’ corner deli, some minor jaywalking to avoid that side-street where the local drug dealer occasionally sets up shop, and she’s almost home. In the distance, New York’s ever-present police sirens are suddenly underscored with barely-audible cheering and applause. For half a second, a minuscule red figure is silhouetted against the skyline.

MJ fights back the sudden urge to grin, and lets herself into her building.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated :)
> 
> Tumblr: @teenybeanielinguine


End file.
